One Morning
by Loves History
Summary: John and Anna Bates are enjoying a quiet morning, catching up on some sewing in the servants' hall, when they find themselves drawn in to the complicated tangle that is Thomas, Miss Baxter and Mr Molesley. One shot at the moment, but may become a mini-story. Some spoliers for series 3 and 4.


**I recently rewatched series 4 of Downton Abbey and this one shot popped into my head. I am an avid John and Anna Bates fan, but I also have a soft spot for Mr Molesley and Miss Baxter - I really hope something happens for them in series 5. This is kind of my way of indulging in that. It may evolve into a mini-story, although I am not too sure yet.**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

**One Morning**

**~x~**

"What do you make of them?"

Anna paused mid-stitch and glanced up at her husband. "Who?"

"Mr Molesley and Miss Baxter."

Leaning forward slightly, Anna looked past John's sturdy frame and settled her sights on the footman and the lady's maid. The two were sitting at the far end of the table in the servants' hall, talking quietly yet intensely to each other.

"I think it's two people having a friendly conversation," she said.

He flashed a roguish smile at her, mimicking Mr Molesley, whose hand was precariously close to Miss Baxter's. "Is that what we do – have friendly conversations?"

"You, Mr Bates, are a cheeky beggar," she said, chiding him light-heartedly. "Besides, it's none of our business."

Anna returned to mending Lady Mary's dress, although her thoughts were still on Mr Molesley and Miss Baxter. She _had_ noticed how friendly the pair had become after the trip to the beach, but she did not want to make any presumptions.

Still, she could not deny that it _did_ remind Anna of those early days with John, when their conversations were veiled with hidden meanings and unspoken feelings. Right from the beginning, from that first awkward moment with Gwen and Miss O'Brien in the servants' hallway, Anna had been drawn to him. She could not explain what it was about him, whether it had been his tall, strong build, his gentle manner or the smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Perhaps it had been all of it.

Falling in love with John had been like falling off the edge of a cliff – terrifying. He'd only had to look at her with those dark, wild eyes and heat stirred in the core of being. Her thoughts wandered down paths she never even knew existed in her mind, paths that had both shocked and excited her. She had imagined what it would be like to be held in his arms, to feel his hands on her skin...to taste his lips.

It was as if another person, _another Anna_, had been unleashed because of him. Reason had told her to fight her feelings, not to place all of her hopes on this one man, but Anna could not, she would not.

She had been courted before by men from the village, and there were a few whom she could have settled down quite happily with. Yet Anna knew she would have always yearned for more, for a man who would own her heart, body and soul, as John did_.  
_

"I'm going into Rippon later, if you want to join me," John said, having gotten back to his own sewing. "I've to pick up a few things for his lordship, but you being there would make it seem less like a chore."

Anna laughed softly. "Charmer."

John snipped off a loose thread from a seam of Lord Grantham's dinner jacket. "Lady Mary won't need you this afternoon, will she?"

Shaking her head, she said, "Lord Gillingham telephoned this morning to say he's stopping by on his way back to London."

"He's still keen, then?"

She pulled a needle through the fabric of the dress. "He's certainly persistent, I'll give him that."

"And Lady Mary?"

"I think she does care for him, but he's ...he's"

"He's not Mr Crawley," John said, seeming to sense her train of thought.

Anna nodded, sadly. The untimely death of Matthew Crawley still grieved her, not least because Lady's Mary's heart had been buried with him. With time, Anna believed her mistress could and would love again, but it would never be the same; she knew because _her _heart would die with John, leaving only a remnant, a shadow.

Without him she was not sure she could have made it through the past year. He had led her through the nightmarish twist her life had taken; his unfailing love towards her driving out the demons that would have torn her apart otherwise. It had not been easy, for either of them. But John had been patient with her, falling into step beside her, taking every cue from her.

Anna remembered the first morning she had awakened to find herself tucked against his chest. The protective arm around her waist and the solid wall of flesh at her back had not caused her to fly into a panic; if anything; it had brought a long-sought peace to her soul. It had been a new beginning, for both of them.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, daring to reach out to stroke her cheek. Even though they were married, Downton had a way of making them almost shy back to their courtship days.

She looked at him, allowing herself to be drawn in the warmth of his brown eyes. "You..."

Their intimate moment was disturbed by the arrival of Thomas. He slunk into the servants' hall like a snake silently slithering from the shadows. Anna could almost see his forked tongue. Over the years she had tried to see the good in Thomas, and there were times when she had honestly thought he would change his self-seeking ways. But he was like an insect that kept butting itself off a windowpane – he never learnt his lesson.

"I'd like a word with Miss Baxter," Thomas said, then he looked pointedly at Mr Molesley. "Alone."

As if she were a puppet and Thomas the puppet master, Miss Baxter started to rise from her chair. At the same time, though, Mr Molesley also stood up.

"She'll speak with you when she's good and ready, Mr Barrow," Molesley said.

Thomas took a long, lazy drag of his cigarette. "Which is now, Mr Molesley."

"Miss Baxter is –"

"You're getting above your station." A malicious glint was visible in Thomas' eyes. "A second footman should know his place."

Anna felt John tense beside her, but she placed a hand on his arm, warning him not to get involved. She wasn't afraid for John; indeed, she was certain Thomas would back down the moment John stood to his feet. The under-butler did not like John but he owed his job, and possibly even his freedom to him, even if he refused to openly acknowledge it.

"Let Mr Molesley deal with it," she whispered.

John looked at her, frowning slightly. "What are you up to?"

"He can't champion Miss Baxter with you storming in like a bull, can he?"

He raised his brow. "I thought you said it was none of our business?"

She smiled sweetly at him. "It's not, and it's why we're going to sit here."

"You _are_ a dark horse, Mrs Bates."

Anna's cheek flushed with heat at his penetrating gaze. It was enough to make her want to take him by the hand and find an empty room somewhere.

The scrape of a chair pulled them both back into the unfolding drama at the other end of the servants' hall. Molesley had stepped away from the table and was now almost toe to toe with Thomas. John pushed his own chair back, but he gave Anna a reassuring look, one that seemed to say he would only intervene if things turned sour.

"I might only be a second footman, Mr Barrow, but I know how to speak to a lady."

Thomas scoffed at Molesley's words. "Come along, Miss Baxter; I haven't got all day."

"Miss Baxter is not going anywhere with you, Mr Barrow."

"Is that so?"

Anna saw Molesley glance at Miss Baxter and then his whole stature seemed to grow as he fixed his gaze back on Thomas.

"You are a bully, Mr Barrow, and I will report you to Mr Carson myself if you do not leave Miss Baxter alone."

"That wouldn't be too wise now, would it? A man could lose his job for acting so foolishly."

At that, John stood up, Anna powerless to stop him. The sudden movement caught Thomas' eye, and Anna watched, perhaps a bit too smugly, the silent exchange that passed between her husband and Thomas.

"I am prepared to take that risk, Mr Barrow," Molesley said, oblivious to John's quiet intervention.

"I'll overlook your disrespect this time, Mr Molesley," Thomas said with all the warmth of a frozen lake. He then looked at Miss Baxter. "You and I will speak later."

The tense atmosphere lifted as Thomas left the servants' hall.

Anna quickly picked up her sewing again, and nudged John to do the same before either Mr Molesley or Miss Baxter turned around and saw them staring. A giggle escaped her lips, but only because she hadn't done something so ridiculously clandestine in a long time. A smile stretched across John's mouth, too.

"You certainly put Mr Barrow in his place, Mr Molesley," Miss Baxter said, "Thank you."

"Yes, well..." Molesley said, flustered, then he seemed to regain some sense of his thoughts. "It's all in how you speak to him, you see. You have to be firm, let him know you're not going to back down."

"No one has ever stood up for me quite like that before," she went on.

"It's nothing more than you deserve."

"I'm very lucky to have met you, Mr Molesley..."

Molesley pulled nervously on the cuffs of his shirt. "I feel like I need a breath of fresh air after that, do you care to join me?"

"Yes, I could do with some air myself."

Anna smiled to herself as they left the servants' hall.

I better be careful or Mr Molesley will be showing me up," John said, polishing a button on Lord Grantham's dinner jacket.

Laughing softly, she ran a hand gently along his arm. "I get a cup of tea in bed every morning; that's a high standard to live up to."

John raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, Mrs Bates?"

Leaning in, Anna kissed him, softly, tenderly. "I'll leave that for you to decide, Mr Bates."


End file.
